The Sensitive Touch
by Anxious Owl
Summary: Just because he hadn't played the game for a while, it didn't mean that he had forgotten how to. McCoy/Marcus. Chapter 2 up!
1. A Little Trip to the Medbay

Not my usual thing, but I had to play after seeing that scene on the planetoid. McCoy flirting (or attempting to) is just too cute.

* * *

The laceration was seeping steadily, painting a scarlet trail down wrist and along her pale forearm. As a weapons specialist she was not unaccustomed to wounds; on the contrary, maximum damage potential in a minimal mass and volume was an aim when developing weaponry for a first-class ship like the Enterprise.

That didn't mean that injuries didn't bother her. She had seen enough to last a lifetime, as had most, if not all, of the men and women aboard the ship. Experiences like that scarred people.

And yeah, it was stinging pretty badly.

She was patiently waiting for a member of the medical crew to treat her, perched on the side of a biobed, arm held upright. They had been en route to a small planet with a single basic Federation outpost to explore the possibilities of further integration with the native people. That is, until an ion storm hit unexpectedly. There was a reason integration of a relatively fragile species like humans was difficult there, she now realised.

The engineering crew managed to regain semblance of the vessel within several minutes, but that was enough time for a group of nine science division ensigns not far from her lab to sustain chemical burns, requiring immediate attention.

Meanwhile, she had crashed to the ground whilst picking apart the circuitry of a small Klingon made projectile. The scalpel she had been using to sever the wires had caught the top of her hand as she fell.

A frazzled looking nurse arrived to clean up the excess blood and sterilise the surrounding skin. He was putting down a dermal regenerator and suturing kit for her hand when Dr McCoy came up behind him. "That's alright, Daniel, I'll take care of the doctor here. Take a break, you look like you need it."

"Thanks, Doc."

"You look like you could use some time off yourself." She commented pleasantly.

"I could use a few _weeks_ off, but we don't always get what we want do we?" he groused under his breath.

She only grinned in response as he began to pass the dermal regenerator over her hand in steady even strokes.

She had understood quickly that his playful innuendos whilst disarming the torpedo when they had initially met were only to get underneath Captain Kirk's skin. She still felt slightly uncomfortable with the knowledge that Jim Kirk could possibly hold the early stages of _feelings_ for her. She had forged her way on to the Enterprise with only her father's suspicious behaviour in mind. She was pulled out of her reverie as Dr McCoy began to expertly stitch the remaining gaps of her damaged skin back together. The sutures were miniscule and even, the transparency of the thread and the wonders of the regenerator masking the evidence of treatment. He worked deftly and smoothly, oblivious to her scrutiny and the hair hanging over his forehead.

He straightened up and his facial muscles relaxed. "There we go, as good as new. Don't go tearin' up my fine work, d'you hear?"

"I'll try not to but I can't make any promises." She straightened her arm, gingerly moving her fingers. "I suppose they were right." She mused.

He frowned in confusion as he filled in an incident report on her medical file. She clarified, "About your hands being legendary; I didn't feel a thing."

His stylus paused, long fingers gently hovering it above the surface of the screen.

"Well. That depends _entirely _on what it is my hands are doing," he replied in a low voice.

She looked at him, the weight of the statement landing heavily in her stomach, wondering if he meant what she thought he had. Like, _that_.

He looked back up, face betraying nothing. "Take our illustrious Captain, for example." He gestured with the stylus, "If I have to give him one more damn nutrient hypo, I'll _make sure _that he can still feel it for days to come. Then he'll understand that I don't kid when I say man cannot survive on pizza and coffee alone."

His face took on the now familiar expression of pure exasperation that it often did when James T Kirk was involved. So perhaps he hadn't meant it like that at all. _Get a grip, Carol. _She slid off of the biobed and thanked him before turning to leave. As she was about to get out of hearing distance she heard:

"If you need any more delicate treatment, then I'm just a comm away."

* * *

Sooooo…. What do you guys think? Please review :)


	2. A Little Trip to the Medbay: McCoy

Wow! I was so overwhelmed by the support for the fic and this pairing :) As an eagle-eyed reviewer pointed out, McCoy seemed a little too smooth, so here is that little exchange from his point of view.

Hopefully this is all in character.

* * *

PoV: McCoy

He exhaled swiftly, both in impatience and relief.

The group that had been brought in had escaped with shallow burns despite the hazardous chemicals they had been working with. If anything, McCoy was grateful that there weren't many more casualties, what with Starfleet officers being as accident prone as they were.

He cast a cursory glance across his sickbay, taking in the individual nurses as they tended to the injuries. He made a point of observing them at random moments. A person's true work ethic tended to shine through when they thought no one was watching, the hard-working and lazy alike. Fortunately for McCoy (and for them) the Enterprise's medical team had been selected for a reason, all having been at the top end of their classes - and it showed, their demeanors calm and measured despite their youth._  
_

He recalled a vast proportion of his current team having been thrown together whilst under fire from the Narada, scrambling around the charred medbay, trying their damn hardest to stabilise and treat the seemingly never ending onslaught of injured crewmembers. This alone planted respect in McCoy for his relatively young team - but he wouldn't hesitate in knocking them into line when necessary.

He noticed a flash of blonde amongst the patients, recognising Carol instantly. She sat ramrod straight on the biobed, arm held out awkwardly. He could feel the beginnings of a frown as he swiftly assessed her arm from afar. Now Daniel was a competent nurse, but McCoy would feel more comfortable carrying out the delicate stitching himself with a far more practised hand. He approached the younger medic, who appeared grateful to be relieved.

"That's alright, Daniel, I'll take care of the doctor here. Take a break, you look like you need it."

"Thanks, Doc."

McCoy situated himself in the space Daniel has vacated and selected his instruments.

"You look like you could use some time off yourself." She commented pleasantly.

"I could use a few _weeks_ off, but we don't always get what we want do we?" he groused under his breath. Then again, he'd probably go stir crazy without a medbay to run and Jim no doubt running him ragged on _'relaxing excursions'_.

She only grinned in response as he began to pass the dermal regenerator over her hand in steady even strokes, totally absorbed by the task at hand. He found repetitive cosmetic work rather therapeutic actually; the motions were simple enough to repeat but required a certain level of attention and dexterity that didn't leave room in his head for idle mind chatter.

Within a few short minutes the skin was resealed. He straightened up and his facial muscles relaxed. "There we go, as good as new. Don't go tearin' up my fine work, d'you hear?"

"I'll try not to but I can't make any promises." She straightened her arm, gingerly moving her fingers. "I suppose they were right." She mused.

He frowned in confusion as he filled in an incident report on her medical file: _Single, shallow laceration on posterior of the hand; minor blood loss; sterilised and sutured with dermal regen-_

She clarified, "About your hands being legendary; I didn't feel a thing."

His stylus paused, long fingers gently hovering it above the surface of the screen."Well. That depends _entirely _on what it is my hands are doing," he replied in a lower voice, irritation taking over as he thought of Jim and his blatant disregard for his own health, not to mention the majority of the bridge crew, whom he had to remind forcefully with every jab of his hypos, that _they weren't expendable damn it._

He looked back up. "Take our illustrious Captain, for example." He gestured with the stylus, "If I have to give him one more damn nutrient hypo, I'll _make sure _that he can still feel it for days to come. Then he'll understand that I don't kid when I say man cannot survive on pizza and coffee alone."

She gave a light laugh and slid off of the bed gracefully - he had a feeling that it came with the accent - before thanking him. He threw a comment in leaving as she turned to exit; "If you need any more delicate treatment, then I'm just a comm away."

She paused almost imperceptibly but continued on out of the medbay.

Then he internally face-palmed, the somewhat ambiguous nature of his comment sinking in.

Those he spoke to more frequently would laugh it off, knowing that he didn't mean anything by it, but Carol was new on the ship and unaccustomed to his diction. And now probably thought he was a pervert_, _what with his smart mouth on the planetoid. He made a mental note to watch his mouth in future, especially as Chapel was a close friend of Carol's.

It would be a cold day in Hell that he would be compared to _Jim, _of all people, in the romance department.

* * *

Don't we all just love some awkward!McCoy.

Feedback would be appreciated :D


End file.
